1941, the year the United States joined in the war efforts after the tragic Pearl Harbor attack by the Japanese. So with a new vigor and want/need to fight against the Axis powers, the United States started the draft, recruiting every able-bodied man into the army or perhaps another branch of the military.
Which in my case was not a choice but more forced to join the frontlines in a large infantry unit meant to try to take back French Territory. Well, that would come about far after boot camp as most would call it. One interesting tidbit about the military training for this time is that it was shortened with the Army the branch I was drafted into being the shortest with both Air and Marine training being shortened as well although still far longer than my own.
I was training to become part of the infantry, of the 105 I believe, or something along those lines. To be honest I was mostly on autopilot for this bit. Just letting my body do all the work and I barely talked to people as I for sure thought I was going to die again. After all, this wasn't one of those self-insert fanfictions or something like that, I wasn't the main character who got a system or reincarnated with some special talent.
Oh, believe me, I tried, in secret of course. I didn't want to embarrass myself in public after all. Trust me I had enough physical problems to not want anything mental or emotional added onto it. In fact, I had actually gotten healthier when I went into the army, as I had finally gotten the proper nutrition a growing boy should've gotten. I think I actually grew a little while I was training in the army, which was nice as I had come in a tiny bit shorter than the average recruit.
During my time there, though, I did get to know a few people, like Matthew Maclom, a tall, blue-eyed man a few of my fellow privates mistook for a German at one point. We bonded over this, as he did, in fact, have German ancestry. So we stuck out for each other, not letting people bully us. Then there was Robert Thorne, I think anyway a man from Gotham City who was in fact Italian but had gotten out of that whole thing before the war started.
His family didn't support the regime and so to avoid dying he came here and settled down. It was odd to see an Italian man here as you'd think most would be ostracized by the community and U.S. government during this time period. Then again he never really talked that much about his family so it was possible that he was born in the United States and that's why he was selected for the draft.
Last but not least of our group of four was Albert Wesley, a skittish man a bit thinner than me even but he was definitely the tallest of our group. He was actually saving up to go to college and wanted to become an engineer, or perhaps a scientist. Honestly speaking he wasn't as talkative, less than I was even.
We weren't the most popular of people as you can guess but we looked after one another, and we made sure none of us suffered too greatly. That the recruits didn't hurt us or that the instructors knew we weren't alone.
Eventually, we were shipped off with the rest of the 105 infantry towards the French lines ready to lead the charge against the Nazis. That was a year later I believe during November 1942 during Operation Torch I believe if memory served me right, as it has been a bit more than twenty-seven years, one of the first operations I believe that was a success for Europe and America.
Either way, I didn't know if we were going to survive this, least of all Albert or me we weren't the most athletic, in fact, I'm pretty sure we were at the bottom of our group. It didn't matter to me though I had long since prepared myself for my inevitable death, I could only hope my small interactions with the world would help it even a little bit, make things better.
There was no telling though if that would be the case, and as we sat in our cramped boat heading to Africa, landing there to then move into French territory. Honestly speaking the specifics escaped me as while I was a History Major, I didn't remember much from my previous life, not anymore at least.
In fact, the only reason I remembered Operation Torch was that I heard rumors of it amongst upper command. So one small trigger and bam I remembered a bit but not enough, for all I knew we were heading right toward a war zone with rockets aimed at us. Either that or it could be to set up a military base anything was possible at this point as I was forgetting things, more rapidly with the coming years.
Meaning that the war I was about to fight in would probably not help as the death and violence would cloud my mind. I would still remember who I currently was but would I remember my past, my life before all this?
Only time will tell.
...
It was now 1943, a year had passed without me knowing or even registering, and new members replaced those we lost during the war. I didn't care though, Matthew was the first to go, a bullet straight through his head. Then Albert got caught up in an explosion either reform a mine or rocket I couldn't remember.
Although honestly speaking they were the lucky ones, Robert not so much, his leg was blown off alongside a large chunk of his flesh. I wasn't able to reach him in time, nor was anyone else and he died there slowly, watching on as his brother-in-arms, the last of our group of four was unable to help him and cowered away with a gun in hand.
That one was what made me stay up at night, unable to sleep as his eyes burned into my soul. The only thing remaining of us was a photo, we all took together to remember each other in case we didn't each other after the war, a way to remind ourselves we weren't alone in the world.
Well, I suppose if there is a heaven hopefully they'll be up in it, ready to have me join them a long way down the road. Although I would be so lucky as to join them because somehow I survived every time, even during the most dangerous bits of our battles where I was in the worst position, I survived.
Most would think I was lucky but well not me because every night was a nightmare as we fought on. All that was about to change however, for the better or worst I didn't know, because in the rubble of a small village I found something a dagger.
One I was all too familiar with, one that I knew would help me survive but continue my suffering in one form or another.